


Confrontations

by WARendfeld



Series: Transformers: Armada (Revisited) [10]
Category: Transformers (Unicron Trilogy)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 20:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12044067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WARendfeld/pseuds/WARendfeld
Summary: Reinforcements arrive for the Decepticons, simultaneously upping the ante in the war and forcing Hot Shot to confront a demon from his past.





	Confrontations

Silence reigned in the streets of Altihex, the night sky illuminated by the familiar sights of Cybertron's moons and the stars scattered throughout. The main location for Cybertron's scientific research and deep space observation, the city was home to a number of scientists and astronomers, and the main testing ground for many Cybertronian technologies. The population was limited, but most of its residents were settled in for a rest cycle, the few remaining on the streets going about their business. Nothing was out of the ordinary, and all was peaceful and quiet. 

So it appeared, at least. 

Silently moving along the city's skyline, a deep blue and black Seeker carrying the Decepticon emblem made his way through the air, landing softly in the shadows of several buildings and transforming to his familiar robotic form. Grey optics scanned his position, sensors primed, hoping that he hadn't been spotted. 

"What took you so long?"

The Seeker almost jumped upon hearing his associate's voice, stopping himself just short of crying out. He shook his head at his addressor. "Do you have to sneak up on mechs like that, Skywarp? I almost blew a gyro there."

A second Seeker, black and pale purple and with a long fin projecting from the top of his head, emerged from the shadows and chuckled. "It's no fun if they can see you, Thundercracker. Speaking of, anyone see you?"

"Don't think so, but I wouldn't be surprised if there's an Autobot sentry or two keeping an optic out. One thing about this place, it's filled with spots you can hide in." Glancing towards a nearby structure, the cobalt Seeker grew nervous. "Makes you wonder why they specifically mentioned this one having fewer personnel. You don't suspect...?"

"A trap?" Skywarp chuckled again. "I always suspect a trap. But not to worry - we've got an optic in the sky." The Decepticon keyed in his communicator. "Shockblast, this is Team 1 - we are in position. Status on Team 2?"

A cold, deep, almost monotone voice answered back. _:"Confirmed, Team 1. Team 2 is ready. Commence operations at your discretion.":_

"Copy that. Catch you on the flip side." His communicator shut down, and the Seeker gave his associate a thumbs-up before shimmering out of view, reappearing near a side entrance to the nearby structure and drawing his wing-sword. With several clean swipes, he cut the entrance hatch out and carefully set it aside before motioning for Thundercracker to follow. 

All this, however, had not gone unnoticed. Watching from a nearby observation tower through a sniper's scope, a red and grey Autobot with a long cannon on one arm keyed in his own communicator. "Inferno to base - targets have arrived. I've sighted two intruders, both Seekers - one blue Type 1A, one black Type 1B."

-

"Copy that, Inferno, we have positive IDs for Skywarp and Thundercracker. Keep optics open." Checkpoint turned to his superiors. "That's two."

"And two to go." Despite having planned for this some time beforehand, Jetfire still felt more than a little uncomfortable. Even if these two had been specifically requested by Starscream, he had no way of knowing if they were truly going to help him on Earth. Still, too late to change his mind. He looked to the strategic genius behind this effort. "Well, what's next?" 

Quickstrike pondered silently before answering. "That building has a number of auxiliary entrances, and it would make sense to split the team up, have one enter one way while a second enters another. And beyond us dropping security at this building, we didn't exactly do much to limit their options."

"Truthfully, I think we just got lucky." Looking up from a security monitor, Bumblebee quickly added, "I mean, if they weren't as desperate as they are now, the 'Cons would be hitting some other space bridge installation instead of this one, or worse, not even bothering. All we did was make this target more convenient. Slag, I'm surprised we haven't seen more of Megatron's forces out here."

The Autobot second-in-command was more than a little grateful for that tidbit. "If Megatron wasn't on Earth, we probably would." A chirp sounded from Bumblebee's console. "And that's probably their second team right now."

-

The metal hatch sliding onto the floor before him, Mudflap gave a confident snicker, shaking his bulky hands with some satisfaction. "They obviously don't make doors like they used to." He looked inside, and quickly grew satisfied at the lack of any onlookers. "You see anyone?" 

His companion, a slightly shorter Decepticon with black-and-yellow armor and a long diagonal gash across his chest, said nothing, merely striding past him down the hall. "Let's move. Someone had to hear that."

Mudflap shrugged and followed. As they made their way down the corridor, something unseen moved, and then shifted back into proper visibility - a tall, lithe Autobot colored blue and white. "This is Mirage, and I'm confirming the remaining two Decepticons. Mudflap's one, but I can't place the other - lights are too dim. Transmitting vocal print and visual specs now."

-

Thundercracker was both suspicious of, and grateful for, the apparent lack of security within the space bridge facility, especially once he and Skywarp reached the chamber housing the space bridge terminus itself. His partner-in-crime working the control console and loading coordinates via an info-jack, the blue Seeker kept a lookout. "How long before the rest of the party shows up?"

His question was answered as footsteps sounded. Both Decepticons armed their cannons and drew their swords towards the chamber's entrance, relaxing slightly once they caught sight of the black and yellow Decepticon, Mudflap following behind. "Are we ready to go?" 

They quickly caught sight of the smaller one's scarred Autobot emblem, but made no comment. Skywarp finished with his commands and nodded. "Connection engaged - we have a go."

The terminus lit up, an energy field forming and the familiar kawoosh reaching their audio sensors as the wormhole became visible. Their radios were just barely audible as the complex's alarms sounded. _:"Starscream to Skywarp, report.":_

"Reading you loud and clear, Screamer." Stopping only to leave a small device below the console, the black Seeker marched towards the portal and stuck his arm in. "We're on our way in." 

With a nod from the Seeker, the other three marched past him, the black Decepticon first and Mudflap and Thundercracker following close behind as footfalls sounded from outside the chamber. Two Autobots, one small and colored white, grey and blue and the other larger and mostly black, entered to find Skywarp waiting for them. They leveled their weapons, the larger one barking, "Step away from the space bridge and surrender!"

Skywarp chuckled and gave a salute with his free arm. "Sorry Prowl, better luck next time. Give my best to Checkpoint!" He jumped through the portal before it winked out. 

The smaller of the two Autobots gave a small grunt, lifting his rifle to one shoulder. "Looks like mission accomplished."

Prowl raised a warning finger, something catching his audio receptors. "Armorhide, you hear that?" He followed the sound, searching with his optics until he found the control console, then pointed to it. 

His smaller companion knelt down, narrowing his optics, and quickly found the device that had been left behind, a small extension slowly telescoping back into the device itself and producing a periodic scraping noise. The obvious conclusion leaped to the forefront of his processor. "Out! Now!"

The two bolted out of the chamber and dropped to the floor outside the hall just nano-kliks before the device exploded. Its payload wasn't large enough to allow it to do serious damage to the structure, but the console was trashed almost beyond recognition. The two peering in, the larger Autobot gave his comrade a sideways glance. "If you even think about making some crack about us having a bang..."

Armorhide looked offended. "Am I that predictable?"

-

"You mean you guys are really going to meet the President?" Rad asked in disbelief from his chair, more than glad that the Mini-Cons had seen fit to get furniture for him and his friends when they visited. Said furniture being mostly "acquired" from recycling centers and then refurbished had barely fazed him, even if the results were slightly haphazard. "I mean, that's cool and all, but doesn't he have other people to do things like that for him?"

Jolt gave his human friend a surprised look. "Optimus makes it a rule to meet with visiting dignitaries when they visit Cybertron, I don't see why your President wouldn't do the same." The Mini-Con rubbed the back of his head uneasily. "And truthfully, I'm not in a big rush to meet him. Optimus, Scavenger and Vector Prime are going, along with their partners, but they pretty much have to, seniority and all. No offense, but given the way Diana was acting and all I've been seeing on the news, I can probably do without meeting him."

"Still, this is the prez we're talking about." An impressed whistle escaped Carlos' lips. "Meeting the most powerful man in this country, that's pretty cool no matter who has the job."

Despite some of her own misgivings about the president's policies and her father's many commentaries concerning his decisions, Alexis couldn't help but agree. Deciding to keep her opinions to herself, however, she instead opted to shift subjects a little. "I understand why Optimus and Scavenger are going, but why is Vector Prime going with them? I mean, he's obviously important, but where does he fit in to Cybertronian culture?"

"It is something of a long story." Glancing over the three children, High Wire asked, "All three of you are followers of Christianity, correct?"

Rad shrugged. "Not seriously, but my family's Methodist."

"Catholic."

"Russian Orthodox."

"Well, imagine for a moment that one of Christ's disciples were still alive today, still able to tell you what Christ was like as a person, and give a firsthand account of his teachings," the Mini-Con spoke with quiet respect and reverence. "Vector Prime is that and more to us – when we were first given life almost nine million Earth years ago, he had already been online for eons longer, perhaps since the dawn of creation itself. He gave Optimus the Matrix of Leadership and blessed him with the title of Prime. Through him, we learned of Primus, and of the rest of the First Thirteen. Were it not for him, we may never have gained our freedom." 

"So he's kinda like Cybertron's version of the Pope?" Carlos ventured.

"Yes and no." Grindor moved his head from side to side, trying to come up with a fair explanation that would make sense to the kids. "Vector Prime's something of a spiritual advisor, but he doesn't treat himself like Primus' vocal processors. He's more a mentor and a caretaker for Vector Sigma than anything else."

Remembering that name, the young girl turned to the orange Mini-Con among them. "That's the computer that gave you life, right?" 

"And according to some, Primus' central processor - his brain, in human terms." Sureshock grew worried. "Whatever prompted him to come here and leave his post, it must be of great importance, far more than a simple bit of negotiation with an elected official. I only wish I knew what it could be."

-

"So far as I can tell, there's no sign of the space bridge transfer having been tracked." Relief both feigned and genuine clear on his face, Starscream turned from a console to face his leader. "Our efforts were successful, Lord Megatron." 

The Decepticon warlord gave a pleased smile. "Excellent." He then turned to face the four new arrivals, each immediately standing to attention. "Welcome to Earth, my loyal Decepticons. You come to us at a critical stage. Thus far, five escape pods from the Mini-Con ship have been found. Prime and his Autobots have managed to recover the majority, along with two of the Core Weapons. From this point on, that stops. Am I unclear?" 

"Not at all, my lord." Skywarp's voice was firm, seemingly free of the relaxed tone he'd displayed earlier. "You will not regret calling for us. We will serve with distinction."

"I expect no less." Megatron surveyed the four with an appraising optic. "Your choices are most impressive, Starscream. Skywarp, one of our best stealth operatives. Thundercracker, the master of sound. Mudflap, a powerful brawler in his own right and a match for any Autobot. And, of course, our newest recruit." He leaned forward and addressed the ebony-armored mech, a gouged Autobot emblem above the purple Decepticon symbol on his chest. "Welcome to Earth, Wheeljack. Are you ready to pay back your debt to me?"

"Yes sir."

A cruel smile formed upon the Decepticon leader's lips. "Good. Come with me." He made his way out of the chamber, Wheeljack following. "Brief the others on our progress thus far, Starscream. I have personal business to attend to."

The chamber hatch closed behind them, and satisfied that Megatron was out of hearing distance, Thundercracker visibly relaxed. "I thought he'd never leave." He turned to face his fellow Seeker. "So, how are things? Bludgeon never got a chance to give us a proper briefing."

"There have been some small successes, here and there." Leading the trio out, the red and grey Seeker assured them further, "Come, I'll explain once we're in safer surroundings."

-

"I'll assume you've been prepared for the current campaign."

"Earth alternate mode taken, all logs and cultural data analyzed." Wheeljack looked up at his leader with eager rage in his optics. "Are you sure he's here, sir?"

"I am indeed. And very soon, young one, you will have a chance to thank the one who abandoned you to die. We need only coax him out of hiding, and that will hardly be difficult. And when you two meet, you will have your revenge."

A smile that was anything but happy formed on the younger mech's face. "Yeah. I can just picture it now. He won't even see me coming."

-

"Hot Shot?" The young Autobot blinked his optic shutters before turning to find Red Alert looking at him in surprise. "Why are you here?"

The younger mech shook his head. "Sorry, Red, just checking up on Smokescreen is all." He turned back into the isolation bay where his comrade rested, cracks still present in his armor and damage still visible. "He's going to be okay, right?"

The medic walked up next to his subordinate. "Of course he'll be alright, assuming something unexpected doesn't happen in the meantime." Suspecting that Smokescreen wasn't the only one suffering from injuries, Red gave the young mech a curious glance. "Why the overwhelming concern? You aren't to blame for his condition."

"No, not his." Hot Shot turned away and started making his way out of the repair bay, lost in his own thoughts. 

While the medic was not one to take wild stabs in the dark, he suspected that there was only one cause for the young racer's sudden negative mood. "This doesn't have anything to do with any other lost comrades you have, does it?" The young mech stopped and turned around, looking at him with astonished and saddened optics. "I've been online long enough to know that not every pain is caused by a physical injury, and I'm sensible enough to read up on the Autobots I serve with."

That did little to help the young Autobot's mood. "So you know about Wheeljack."

"I know that you and he were brothers, brought online together in the Vector Sigma chamber. I know you both studied in the same courses at the Cybertron Military Academy, and I've been online more than long enough to remember the training accident which took him from you." The medic stepped forward, sympathy and understanding in his tone. "What's happened to Smokescreen isn't anything like what happened to Wheeljack. His injuries were sustained in the line of duty, and what happened to Wheeljack was a tragic accident. You aren't responsible for this."

"Just like I'm not responsible for what happened back then?" His optics dimmed. "No matter how many times I hear that, I still feel responsible. I can still see Wheeljack trapped beneath the rubble; still feel the heat of the flames on my armor... still hear him calling for me to not leave him behind." Small collections of optic cleanser fluid started to build on his face. "It's thanks to me that he's dead."

The medic tilted his head to one side. "I seem to vaguely recall that when you were met by the relief unit, it took them shooting you with a restraining bolt to keep you from rushing back in after him. That hardly sounds like abandonment."

"It still feels like it!" The younger mech looked at his superior in frustration. "We didn't even find a body when the wreckage was cleared! There wasn't a single trace of him, not even a scrap of armor! We didn't even have a corpse to retrieve and give a proper funeral for! He was just... gone! Like we hadn't even been there in the first place, and I left him there! What happened to him was my fault! Do you have any idea what it's like, to feel responsible for another mech's death?!"

Red Alert studied Hot Shot quietly, waiting until he was certain the young Autobot had finished his tirade before he answered. "In my time with the Autobot Medical Corps, I've lost exactly ninety-two patients. In all those cases, I knew that there was nothing I could do. I didn't stop trying, not for one nano-klik, but a part of my spark knew that they were too far gone to be saved. But I don't spend every waking moment thinking of the ones I lost. I may not have caused their injuries, but I could do nothing to save their sparks either." He laid a comforting hand upon the younger Autobot's shoulder. "Smokescreen isn't one of them. Don't blame yourself for his injuries, and don't blame yourself for the loss of your brother. Neither was your doing."

Wiping away some of his optic fluid, Hot Shot protested, "It's not as easy as you think it is. Scavenger keeps telling me to do the same, but..." 

"But that's all that we can do." The medic's words were firm but soothing. "Now get going. Between the negotiations and Smokescreen's injuries, we're understaffed. If something happens to him, you'll know about it."

The younger mech took a couple kliks to collect himself before nodding. "Yessir." 

As Hot Shot left the repair bay, Red turned back to Smokescreen. He remembered those reports, and was glad that Hot Shot wasn't aware of the stir the incident had caused higher up in the chain of command, especially given the lack of a body. Despite himself, he almost hoped that Wheeljack truly had perished. The alternative was anything but pleasant to think about. 

-

On the outskirts of Portland International Airport rested a large hangar, temporarily emptied of aircraft. In their place stood a number of personnel, some agents with the Secret Service and others airport security but most standing throughout the building, covering each entrance and exit. Towards one end of the hangar was a long folding table, currently unoccupied, with several empty chairs arranged around it and an unopened cooler placed nearby. Standing nearby the table were two people not affiliated with the Secret Service or Portland International, one a tall man in Air Force blues and the other a woman in a business outfit. Where the Air Force officer stood comfortably in his service dress, the woman was decidedly more nervous, going over her black skirt and jacket with a lint brush. 

"I don't think the President will mind seeing you with a little cat hair, Diana." Despite himself, Colonel Franklin couldn't help but be amused. "What's wrong, did you vote for his opponent in the last election?"

Diana, finally satisfied that she'd gotten what she could, stashed the lint brush back into her purse. "No, I didn't vote for either candidate last year." Drawing a breath to collect herself, she looked at her companion. "You mind me giving an opinion?"

"Last I checked I put on this uniform so that you could do exactly that. And he won't be here for another minute or so."

Diana relaxed slightly. "You know that my dad fought in Vietnam, right?"

"Have a problem with the fact that the President was only part of the National Guard back then?"

"No, not that. I just think that he and many of the people in his cabinet haven't thought things through with the current wars. Yes, the Taliban was deposed and Saddam's no longer giving orders, but it feels like we removed two governments from power only make a bigger mess than the one we found in the first place." As one of the lead agents moved their head, receiving information through her earpiece, Diana elaborated, "I'm not stupid enough to think that what's going on in Iraq and Afghanistan is the same as what happened in Vietnam, but it's hard to not see some parallels. He's getting smarter about things, given the new Defense Secretary, but I still feel like a lot of unnecessary damage has been done."

The colonel couldn't help but agree with her sentiments, but knew better than to speak of them. "I can neither agree nor disagree with those opinions. That's the minimum price I pay for wearing this uniform, unfortunately. Whether I disagree with my orders or not, as long as they aren't illegal, I'll follow them." Taking note of the lead agent striding towards them, he asked, "Yes, Agent Bennett?"

"Cadillacs One and Six are en-route, Colonel. Are the dignitaries ready?"

A small glance towards the rest of the hangar, a familiar group of vehicles waiting in partial shadow, and the colonel gave a small smile. "They are."

Satisfied, the agent turned away and keyed into her radio. "Cadillac One, this is Roswell. We are ready for your arrival."

Given clearance by the agent, a pair of unmarked black Chevrolet Suburbans rolled into the hangar, the hangar's doors slowly closing behind them. On instinct, Franklin stood at attention with his hand to his brow in salute as the two SUVs rolled to a halt. Diana, caught up in the moment, stood ramrod straight beside her companion, silently watching as the President and his associates stepped out of their vehicles. She immediately recognized the thin, somewhat elderly man who stepped out from the first vehicle, his movements suggesting athletic grace and his expression, though initially neutral, brightening as he took note of her and the colonel. She had many issues with his policies, but one thing she didn't have a problem with was the man himself - say what the critics might, but the President looked like the kind of guy that you'd like to hang out with on occasion. 

Immediately behind him, a second man emerged from the second SUV. Slightly shorter and noticeably older than the President, John Keller was nonetheless a quiet, personable man, noticeably relaxed. Diana was more than a little bit reminded of her grandfather, particularly in the man's stance and movements. Recently appointed to the position of Secretary of Defense, Diana had little chance to see the man in action or get an idea for his views. However, what she saw so far was comforting, especially in comparison to the last man who held that office. 

"At ease, Colonel." Franklin relaxed to parade rest at the President's Texas-accented voice. "Fine job, son."

"Thank you, sir, Mr. Secretary." 

That greeting ended, the President turned to the civilian woman and offered his hand. "Miss Masters? I hear I have you to thank for this meeting."

Diana gave a polite smile and took the hand. "I wouldn't go that far, Mr. President. All I've done is help us understand each other better." The greetings done, she added, "Forgive me, but I'm surprised the Secretary of State isn't here."

"It was decided that the two of us would be enough to begin preliminary talks with your friends, ma'am." The older man's words weren't arrogant, but were clearly meant to be polite more than anything. "Once we've been assured of our visitors' friendly intentions, we'll have closer negotiations with members of the State Department. Now, we've been told that they'd be here waiting for us."

It took everything she had to not give a small chuckle. "They're already here, Mr. Secretary. I'll allow them to do the introductions."

Diana turned around just in time to watch as the red semi's headlights flared to life, engine roaring and being joined by that of the green bulldozer. Pulling away from its trailer, the semi slowly moved forward a few inches before stopping. She easily imagined the look on the President and Keller's faces as the trailer's parts shifted, parts of his cab contorting and a pair of large hands pushing him up, legs forming from his hitch assembly and the rest of the cab shifting parts into the familiar red and gray torso. The bulldozer's change was only slightly more violent, the treads becoming arms and pushing him up, the shovel assembly shifting down and becoming part of his legs as a head emerged from the central part of the vehicle. As the smaller vehicles changed forms, taking on humanoid proportions at much smaller heights, a much larger and more exotic craft right out of science fiction descended and shifted, arms and legs and a head emerging to form a large mechanical being, his entire form evocative of a medieval knight. The former red cab locked his optics upon the President, and slowly knelt down before him. Half the Secret Service agents moved in but Franklin waved at them to hold.

"Good afternoon, Mr. President. My name is Optimus Prime, and I think we have much to talk about."

-

"Why am I not surprised that Zapmaster's still online and causing trouble?" As uneasy as he was about this mission, Thundercracker was nonetheless glad that his old partner was still online and able to lend assistance. "Wish the reunion was under better circumstances, however."

"We hardly have a choice about these things, old friend." As he led the new arrivals towards the _Nemesis_ ' command deck, Starscream quickly reminded them, "Besides, we need to take what victories we can. Aside from having retrieved the majority of the Mini-Cons, the Autobots have two of the five Core Weapons, and Megatron is all but obsessed with obtaining the rest."

Skywarp sounded far less worried than his fellow Seekers. "Then it sounds like we got here at just the right time. What's the plan?" 

"For now, we need to wait and gauge the situation, and consolidate while we can. There are a few too many unknown factors right now, Wheeljack among them, and I want to get those reduced as much as possible. We don't want to make things worse by doing something stupid."

The bulkiest of the new arrivals grunted. "We can't just wait around forever, Starscream. We'll need to take action sooner or later." 

The red Seeker nodded in reluctant agreement with Mudflap as the quartet entered the command deck, the other Decepticons awaiting them. "Reporting as ordered, milord."

"Excellent." His gaze sweeping over his eight subordinates, Megatron firmly addressed them. "As everyone is well aware, our new arrivals will only create further drains upon our already strained Energon resources. While Starscream's solar array has provided suitable amounts of energy, it will become taxed. Thus, I and Thrust have decided to embark upon another Energon raiding mission on Earth." 

Several monitor screens brought up a three-dimensional map of Earth, Iceland highlighted and flashing as Thrust continued for his leader. "According to our files, numerous hydroelectric facilities are located on this small island in the northern portion of Earth's Atlantic ocean. Considering the last time we took energy from a hydroelectric facility, this should provide us with enough for some time."

Glancing over the monitor, Starscream quickly noted, "My apologies, Lord Megatron, but it would be just as easy for me to expand the array I already have in place, or simply construct a second one. Something like this would only attract unnecessary Autobot attention."

"That is another reason why we are taking part in this operation." The warlord turned to face the monitors, keeping Wheeljack in the corner of his sights. "We have every expectation of Autobot interference. This time, however, we will give them a reason to not interfere in the future."

-

"The control console's scrapped, but we can repair it easily enough." Looking up from his computer pad, Checkpoint looked decidedly pleased. "All things considered, I'd call this a success."

Atlas shook his head in frustration. "Four more Decepticons with Megatron on Earth isn't a success - it's a failure. We shouldn't have even let them get into that facility in the first place."

"And give Megatron and his bunch reason to think they might have traitors and infiltrators in their midst? I don't think so." Jetfire gave his subordinate a small glance. "Just think of this as an acceptable loss, Atlas." The ivory Autobot jet restrained himself as the Autobot second in command changed subject. "Now, any idea about who that fourth mech was, or why they didn't create some distraction elsewhere?"

"We're still looking through all the databases based on Mirage's description, but we don't have anything yet. Not surprising, given how many of us share body frames or have similar color schemes, but we'll get an ID and let you know. As for the lack of a large-scale assault, well, think about who's probably in charge now that Megatron's gone. Say what you like about Bludgeon, he's not one to underestimate subtlety or waste resources. I'd bet that for every 'Con we saw in there, there were two or three that we didn't see."

"Probably a good thing we had Inferno and Mirage hiding out to begin with then – if they'd been spotted, this whole thing would have gone south in a nano-klik." While the shuttle couldn't help but count his blessings and look at the positives, a few details still nagged at his processor. "Let me know the instant you've identified that fourth Decepticon, alright?"

The larger of the two flying Autobots grumbled. "Knowing who he is now won't do us a bit of good, sir." 

"No, but it'll give Optimus a chance to know what he's dealing with."

-

"Truthfully, Optimus, my advisors and I had a hard time believing the information we'd been given about you by Colonel Franklin." The president and the other humans taking part in the negotiations had taken seats around the table, joined by a few aides who were recording everything for future reference. The Cybertronians remained standing, trying their best not to look too imposing. "No offense meant, but a race of living mechanical beings on a planet just within Earth's neighborhood, with a civilization going back before humankind even existed, sounded a bit beyond belief. A few even called it impossible, something about your people being too large to support your own weight."

"The Square Cube Law is always taken into account every time one of us is constructed. And I assure you, everything we've told you is true, especially our reasons for being here in the first place."

"These renegade Decepticons you mentioned – that part we had the least trouble believing, given everything that's happened in the last few weeks, not to mention our own history." Keller shifted a bit in his seat, apparently trying to get comfortable but subconsciously trying to work off some unease. "You can understand why we'd be a bit uncomfortable given that same information."

"We aren't happy about what happened in Indianapolis either, sir." Scavenger's more relaxed tone was something of a comfort to both men, as it suggested he was more approachable than his associates. "We were hoping that we'd be able to keep out of sight and not cause too much trouble here on Earth, but that's clearly no longer an option. Given the way things are escalating, we can't count on Megatron restraining himself, and if we just ignored your people, we'd be fighting our war on two fronts. We don't want that, and we especially don't want human lives getting lost because of our actions."

"Which is the primary reason why we chose to open negotiations. We can get much further in our goals by cooperating than by acting independently, and we can avoid future incidents such as the ones in Indianapolis and at Tooele. The recent events near Cape Canaveral are a good example of what we can accomplish."

A few thoughts concerning said recent events went through the president's mind, reminding him of the wisdom in their words. "What exactly are you asking for?"

"We don't know how long we'll be here on Earth or how many resources will ultimately be needed to defeat Megatron and safely rescue the Mini-Cons. We're also fully aware that you'd be uncomfortable with the idea of us operating without your knowledge or consent. Which is why we're willing to offer a compromise."

"The Cybertronians have had occasional dealings with other alien races, with a few becoming protectorates of their government and military," Franklin added. "In return for allowing their continued presence on Earth and American soil, they'd like to take the first steps towards a similar arrangement with humanity."

"Beginning with the United States."

"The majority of the escape pods from the _Exodus_ thus far have been found within the territory of this nation, so beginning negotiations here is reasonable." Vector Prime spoke now, his voice eloquent and clear. "With the permission of your government, we will construct a permanent base facility within your territory at a site to be agreed upon at a later date." 

"We'd also like to enlist the aid of your military in locating the remaining escape pods, and potentially the ship which brought them to this system in the first place." Sparkplug was also calm in his words, which helped to put both men at ease. "As you know, this is a big planet. We can't devote resources towards finding every individual pod, but we can help to point you in the right direction for the ones within your territory. In return, we're hoping that you can repeat what was done at Cape Canaveral with some measure of success."

The President nodded, seeing the value of such an agreement. "Alliances ideally work both ways. What can we expect out of this?"

The yellow Mini-Con produced a pair of computer pads and handed them off to the two men as Optimus continued. "The first thing we can provide is a guarantee of protection. As said, we've had dealings with other races - those agreements include the establishment of a two-parsec buffer zone around any territory controlled by or under the protection of the Cybertron Alliance. Earth falls just within that boundary now, but under this agreement, your civilization would have slightly more breathing room."

"And we'd avoid invasion by any hostile alien races seeking Earth for resources or whatever."

Safeguard couldn't help but chuckle a bit, having joined in on the occasional alien-invasion movie marathon. "As unlikely as that is to happen, yes, that would be part of the arrangement. We'd also provide protection against more natural events, such as a collision with a reasonably-sized meteoroid. We also feel that our technology could go a ways towards improving the condition of your people in general."

Keller skeptically raised an eyebrow at the Mini-Con. "I suppose you think you can give us the cure for cancer?"

Rollbar shook his head. "Dealing with things like that's a bit outside of our means. What we're talking about is a bit more mundane. Advanced artificial limbs, improved means of gaining energy through renewable sources, small boosts in space technology, and so on. Not to mention expanding your awareness of the universe - when your civilization's been around for nine million years, you tend to figure out the little details about things like quantum mechanics."

"Right now, medical centers associated with the armed forces are swamped with amputees coming home from Iraq and Afghanistan. Gas prices are rising all over the country, partly because of increased demand and partly due to our interventions overseas. And I don't think we want a repeat of what happened to _Columbia_." Diana carefully considered her next words. "Admittedly I'm just a civilian here, Mr. President, but given all the potential benefits of this agreement, I think it's at least worth considering." 

He glanced over the details of the arrangement on the pad, finally bringing up what seemed like a relevant question. "What about weapons technology?"

"That, we cannot give you, under any circumstances." Optimus' tone indicated that there would be no debate on this point, but he continued before anyone could begin to argue. "Given the human race's tendency towards violent conflict, we have little assurance that you won't use any weapons we give you upon your enemies, or upon us. We have even less assurance that said technology won't fall into less responsible hands."

"It's an understandable concern, Mr. President." The colonel hoped that he wasn't being too forward as he elaborated. "We're already worried about terrorists gaining access to weapons of mass destruction – if they obtained even the most basic of Cybertronian weaponry, the results could be similarly devastating."

Both president and secretary nodded, not particularly happy about that point but not about to deny it. The president himself set down his pad, weighing things in his head. "All this for a base and a little help looking for lost robots. You'll forgive me if I think this sounds too good to be true."

Praying that she wasn't going to cause any problems, Diana spoke up again. "I'll be the first to admit, Mr. President, all this is a bit on the overwhelming side. But I've spent time with Optimus and Sparkplug and the other Cybertronians here. They don't want to see this planet devastated because of their actions, and they want to keep a low profile. Whether we like it or not, they're here, and they won't be leaving until the Mini-Cons are found and Megatron's forces are defeated. At the moment, we can either ignore them, turn away everything they're offering and risk another incident like the one in Indianapolis, or we can work alongside them, limit any potential bloodshed and destruction, and all gain something from the arrangement."

"We can leave if asked, Mr. President. You have every right to ask for that, and every reason to do so. However, I have no eagerness to see a task left only half-finished." The Autobot leader's tone was far less severe this time. "I have every hope that my people will be able to openly interact with yours, and this could be an important stepping stone in that direction. But I know that for now, we need to maintain secrecy, lest we create unwarranted panic."

The president sat silently, thinking over everything he had heard over the course of the meeting and what he knew of the situation, weighing the pros and cons of any potential agreement. "While your group would willingly leave, I'd assume the same can't be said for these Decepticons you're chasing." At the Autobot's affirming nod of his assessment, he looked to Keller, reading his face and taking a stab at what he was thinking. They might be able to fight a force of giant alien robots, but not without creating a panic or causing untold amounts of destruction and bloodshed. And while he tried his best not to think about how he was viewed by the public, it didn't take much to imagine their reaction to a third round of violent conflict. A barely audible sigh, trying not to imagine the fuss the House and Senate were going to create once they got wind of this. "I can't make any promises. Even if we can hammer out an agreement, there's no guarantee that it will be ratified by the Senate - all I can do is negotiate it, not make it legal. For now, all I can do is discuss this with my advisors... and figuring things out will take time no matter what we do."

Optimus understood - as much as he hated it, bureaucracy in any form moved slowly no matter what planet you were on. "I understand. Take what time you need."

-

Somewhat paradoxically given its name, Iceland was not covered in ice. It was a fact that glaciers were present on the island nation, but given its high amount of geological and volcanic activity as well as the Gulf Stream, the country was notably hospitable to human life. A pleasant side effect of this was a high amount of power readily available to the island's inhabitants through hydroelectric and geothermal facilities. Despite the many risks involved, the island's inhabitants thrived. 

High above the island, traveling at high speeds and just avoiding detection by radar, three aircraft circled overhead. "I'm starting to see why you admire these Terrans so much, Starscream. It takes a special kind of crazy to live on a volcanic island," Skywarp wryly commented.

"Makes you wish we could be here for other reasons." His radio catching strains of music from literally dozens of sources and frequencies, Thundercracker couldn't help but be impressed by human creativity. "And that we didn't have to do this."

"Unfortunately, our choices are limited. Let's just make sure we don't have anyone underfoot before we begin our Energon collecting." Keying in his communications line, Starscream reported, "Lord Megatron, we've sighted a human energy facility and are preparing to drive away the human inhabitants. You may move in at your discretion."

_:"Acknowledged, Starscream. Out.":_

-

As alarm klaxons sounded throughout the _Ark_ , Hot Shot rushed to the command deck, wishing that Optimus and his party were back already. "What's up?"

Left to man the operations console in Smokescreen's absence, Blurr was nonetheless able to bring up the sensor feeds. "We've got traces of orbital jump technology being used; deposit point looks to be Iceland. No beacons from an escape pod were picked up from there, so odds are the Decepticons are on another Energon raid."

The young Autobot shook his head. "They must be stocking up to accommodate their new arrivals. Any word from Optimus?"

"He's completed preliminary negotiations with the American president. I've sent word ahead; he, Scavenger, and Vector Prime are on their way, and he wants us to meet them there."

"Alright - you get Jolt and Incinerator, and I'll let Red know." A small part of the young Autobot was glad for the battle. If nothing else, it would help to distract him from his own problems, and give him something else to think about. "Red, we need you to take over up here on the command deck. Can you leave Smokescreen alone for a bit?"

-

"He's stable enough for now, and I can monitor him from there easily enough." The medic gave his patient a quick glance, glad that he wasn't needed back on the field quite yet. "Watch yourself out there. I don't want more work in the repair bay than necessary."

_:"Understood, Red. We'll come back in one piece.":_

Red Alert was far from assured, given the words he'd exchanged earlier with Hot Shot, but had some measure of confidence in the younger mech's safe return. He was many things, but suicidal wasn't one of them. Just as he was about to exit the repair bay, however, a groan sounded from his patient. He watched as Smokescreen struggled into a sitting position, rushing to his side immediately. "Relax, you haven't fully recovered yet."

"I'm fine," the old mech assured him, more than a little confidence in his voice. "Did I catch something about the Decepticons being on the move?"

"Yes, but you aren't going to meet them. You're staying here, and that's final." Securing the repair bay as he made his way out, Red silently marched out, hoping that his decision against restraints was a wise one. 

With the medic gone, Smokescreen performed a self-diagnostic. He was pretty beat up, no argument, and could definitely use a spell in the CR Chamber. Still, he couldn't just sit back and let everyone else fight without him. Besides, it wasn't like Red's security measures were that difficult to get around...

-

"Cyclonus, Thrust, continue aerial reconnaissance of the area. Starscream and Mudflap will be handling the Energon extraction. Remaining Decepticons will maintain defensive positions unless told otherwise. Is that clear?" A chorus of confirmations erupted over the comm.-line before Megatron clicked off and turned to his subordinate. "Are you prepared?"

"Yes." Drawing one of his old stun batons, Wheeljack looked determined to settle things. "I'm ready."

A dark smile grew on the Decepticon warlord's face. "Good. Do not disappoint me."

-

One orbital jump later and the two young Autobots and their Mini-Con partners found themselves on the slopes of Icelandic tundra, chilling winds racing over them. Some trees were visible in the distance, a river flowing among them. His visor sliding down over his face, Hot Shot scanned over the area. "I'm picking up Energon nearby, towards the south - they must've already started the conversion process at a nearby plant."

"Not surprising, given how fast you showed up the last time." Incinerator was eager to get moving, partly because of the wind and partly because of his own desire to get into the action quickly. "What now?"

Two nearby missile impacts answered the Mini-Con's question, prompting the quartet to dive for nonexistent cover. High above, Cyclonus cackled with glee. "Now you Autobots are gonna give us a little fun!"

Jolt linking up with his back, Hot Shot targeted the Decepticon berserker. "Have fun with this!" His overhead cannon flipped into position and fired as Blurr joined in, their weapons hitting their mark and prompting Cyclonus to transform and land. Fully Powerlinked with his partner and the Destruction Team, and not one to back down even when by himself, he opted to continue to dash at the pair. 

Continuing fire as his partner linked up, the silver and blue Autobot marksman declared, "I can take this loudmouth, Hot Shot! Go and make sure the Decepticons are softened up for Prime and the others!"

Though more than a little hesitant, Hot Shot was finally convinced when his partner scored a direct hit to Cyclonus' face. Jolt disconnecting, the Autobot transformed and linked back up with his partner, peeling off and hoping that Optimus wasn't tied up elsewhere. 

-

Unfortunately for Hot Shot, his commander was indeed tied up. While he and his party had made a successful orbital jump of their own, they'd encountered similar problems upon arrival, with Thrust darting around above them and Thundercracker and Demolishor targeting them from the ground. "We've been expecting you, Autobots! Prepare for long overdue retribution!"

Given the relatively flat terrain of the tundra and their position on the ground, the three found they had limited options. Optimus had already drawn his guns and begun to give covering fire, Scavenger linked up with his partner and supporting his commander while Vector Prime made his way skyward, the ChronoSaber drawn. "The only one who shall attain retribution this cycle is you, arrogant fool!"

High above them in turn, a black, angular aircraft flew overhead, undetected by those below. "Interesting..."

-

As Hot Shot sped towards the hydroelectric facility, something popped up on his sensors. He slowed and stopped, transforming as Jolt detached. "Hot Shot? What's wrong?"

"Sorry, but something... something's wrong." He glanced about at the sparse vegetation around him, trying his best to figure out what his sensors were picking up, because he knew it couldn't be what he thought it was. "I'm reading something... some _one_... familiar. But it can't be who I think it is."

A cold, angry voice answered him. "It can. And it is."

Hot Shot's optics widened in shock, and he whipped around in surprise as a familiar form stepped into the light. Black and gold armor, a large red Autobot emblem on his chest with a massive gash torn through it, a Decepticon emblem below and circuitry visible underneath, armed with two golden stun batons and glaring at him with chilling, furious rage. "Wheeljack?"

The former Autobot charged forward without saying a word, swinging hard with one baton and then another. The training weapons, normally very limited in power, had been modified beyond their original specs, the electric charge running through them causing the yellow and red Cybertronian to cry out in pain. "Hello, Hot Shot. Miss me?"

"What are you-?!" Jolt's exclamation was cut short as the larger mech knocked him aside.

Totally ignorant of the red Mini-Con at his feet, Wheeljack continued his assault upon his sibling, every strike with his batons punctuated by a scream from his target and a declaration from his mouth. "You left me to die, Hot Shot! To be buried in that rubble, burned in the flame! You have no idea how helpless I felt! How alone I was, how afraid I was! You said you'd come back for me, Hot Shot! You didn't!" 

The physical blows had only done so much damage to his system, having hit at a different spot each time and not focusing upon a specific point on his frame, but the jolts of electrical current were another matter - each strike sent countless joules of electricity through his systems, his internal monitors screaming warnings into his HUD each time. Even if he could protest, Hot Shot couldn't help but think Wheeljack was right - he had abandoned him, despite his best efforts. And now he was paying the price for it. 

In his rage, Wheeljack wasn't aware of how much damage he was doing to his brother. Nor did he care. This was payback, pure and simple, for having been abandoned, for having all of his dreams taken away by the brother who had tossed him out of the picture and left him to die. He didn't notice as the little red Mini-Con transformed and attempted to help his partner, didn't care as a stun baton strike sent him hurtling to the ground, knocked out by the strong electrical surge. He only paused to watch as Hot Shot crumpled to the ground, the stray bit of electricity surging over his frame as he attempted to climb to his knees. "And now, you're going to pay the price for abandoning me. Come on, speak up, beg for your miserable life." Impatient, he screamed, "SAY SOMETHING!"

Through ragged gasps, Hot Shot weakly rose his head to face his brother. He spoke, voice barely a whisper, but they were words Wheeljack wasn't expecting. "What good is it going to do me? You're going to kill me anyway, so go ahead and get it over with. I deserve it for leaving you behind. Just make it quick."

The new Decepticon froze, optics widening in surprise. This wasn't the Hot Shot he remembered, the brash, young, eager-to-please warrior with dreams of leadership. It was as if he wanted to die. Could this be some kind of trick, he wondered, some desperate ploy to escape death? No, he finally realized - what he was seeing in his brother's optics was genuine regret, a scar that had refused to simply heal and fade away with the passage of time. Shock seized his spark; Hot Shot actually wasn't going to put up a fight. But... why? Wheeljack knew Hot Shot - he was a fighter, he wouldn't surrender without a fight, even after something like this. It was almost like he was willing to let himself be killed, and as much as Wheeljack had wanted to oblige before, he was getting more and more hesitant to do so.

As Wheeljack puzzled over this, the loud roar of an engine sounded from nearby. He turned as an orange utility truck transformed mid-charge, tackling him to the ground and knocking away one of his batons. 

"Smokescreen... don't..." Hot Shot barely rasped out his comrade's name before collapsing onto the ground, giving in to stasis lock. 

Returning to his feet, Smokescreen batted his opponent aside with his crane. He knew this was a crazy idea, but it might just be enough to scare off Hot Shot's attacker and let him get the younger soldier to safety. "You want him dead, you Decepticon punk? You have to go through me too!"

The older Autobot's gambit worked, though not the way he had intended. Panicked, Wheeljack chucked his remaining baton, hitting Smokescreen directly in the face and discharging its stored up electric current into his already weakened body. He spasmed as the baton fell to the ground and then dropped like a stone, a few last gasps going out as his optics went dark. "Lucky... shot..."

Already receiving more than enough bombshells in the cycle, Wheeljack dropped to the ground, his gaze darting between the unknown Autobot and his sibling, scorch marks in their armor and their optics black as night. He didn't think it'd happen like this, didn't think that it'd go this way, that he'd end up killing two...no, three Cybertronians. He just wanted payback for being abandoned, not to become a murderer. 

He jumped as his radio sounded. _:"Wheeljack, report status!":_

Wheeljack took a couple nano-kliks to collect himself, getting back to his feet and retrieving his batons. "Two Autobots down. I'm reading stasis lock on both."

_:"Was your target one of them?":_

"Yes, but-"

_:"Excellent! Make certain they're permanently off-line. Megatron out.":_

The line cut off, and Wheeljack looked at his hands, then at his victims. Sure, Hot Shot may have deserved this for leaving him behind, but the Mini-Con? And the other Autobot? What had they done to deserve this? What had he done to them? He stowed his weapons and looked upon the orange Autobot's prone form, hoping that he could hear him. "I'm sorry..." His optics landed on the Mini-Con. "I'm so sorry..." At last, they found themselves back on his brother. This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? Why wasn't he enjoying it, and why wasn't he finishing the job? 

He suddenly found an excuse not to do so as twin laser shots struck the ground near his feet. The young Cybertronian rolled aside, afraid that someone else would come to try and avenge Hot Shot before speeding away. 

Just as Wheeljack got out of sight, a purple motorcycle with a lone rider drove up to the two prone Autobots. The rider climbed off, and the motorcycle shifted forms, becoming a lean robot with purple and yellow armor. His blue optic bar glowed briefly in anticipation. "Not bad."

-

"Starscream, report status," Megatron ordered. 

_:"Twenty Energon cubes filled - more than enough for our purposes right now. I suggest we withdraw.":_

"Agreed, but not before verification is made." Before his second-in-command could question him, he shut off the comm.-line and opened another. "Wheeljack, report."

_:"I was attacked - I couldn't finish off the two Autobots. They sustained heavy damage, I don't-":_

The tyrant growled - he supposed he'd have to make do. "Very well then. Return to arrival point and prepare for extraction. We've accomplished our goals for this mission." Closing that line and opening another, he called, "All Decepticons withdraw!"

-

As they watched the Decepticons pull out, Optimus and Scavenger both looked to one another. "You don't suppose they decided to quit while they were ahead?" Neither considered that particularly likely, and Optimus quickly activated his communicator. "Hot Shot, Blurr, report!" Static answered him. "Slag it. Something's interfering with our radios. Vector Prime, can you see them?"

Before the ancient Transformer could answer, he was interrupted. _:-peat, Optimus, can you read me?! Smokescreen is missing from the repair bay, I can't find him!":_

As Optimus tried to calm Red down, Scavenger keyed in his own communicator. "Blurr, report."

_:"Reading you. Cyclonus just beat a hasty retreat, beamed out while I was watching.":_

"Is Hot Shot with you?"

_:"Negative, but I'm reading him... and Smokescreen?":_

Vector Prime landing beside them, Optimus patched into Scavenger's line. "Send us their coordinates, Blurr, now, and head there immediately. We'll meet you there."

-

Jolt's optics quickly came back online, his systems automatically running diagnostics. He slowly transformed and got to his feet, carefully looking around. The first things he noticed were the motionless forms of Hot Shot and Smokescreen lying on the ground, electric burns on their armor in addition to the injuries Smokescreen already had. The next thing was an unfamiliar robot kneeling next to Smokescreen's body. 

"Your friend here's in bad shape." The unknown mech, twin extensions resembling the handlebars of a motorcycle emerging from his head, turned to face the Mini-Con. "Massive cumulative damage, and that shock treatment didn't help - he should take better care of himself. The other guy's not in much better shape, though."

Jolt managed a flabbergasted "Who...?" before Blurr flew in and transformed. His optics quickly finding both prone Autobots and then the newcomer, his processor moved to the logical conclusion and he aimed both his guns at the unknown robot. "All right, back off, whoever you are." 

If the unnamed mech was in any way worried, he showed no sign, calmly raising his hands in surrender. "I didn't do this. Both of them were hit with stun batons at high settings, most likely modified."

"He's right." His memories beginning to clear, Jolt approached the Autobot marksman. "It was another Cybertronian, with a big Autobot emblem on his chest with a gash in it and a Decepticon symbol below it. Hot Shot called him 'Wheeljack'."

Blurr looked at the Mini-Con, glanced at his two comrades and quickly noted the injuries before looking at the long cannons on the newcomer's arms. However, he still kept his guns trained on him. "Why are you here then?" 

"A mech can't show concern for his fellows?" the unknown robot asked glibly. "Listen, both of them are in stasis lock. They need a medic. I suggest you contact whoever's in charge and get them out of here as soon as possible."

Blurr eyed the newcomer warily, but put away one of his guns and logged in. "Optimus, I've found them. We've got a newcomer too, says they're in bad shape."

_:"We're almost there, stay with them!":_

The line clicked off, leaving Blurr to continue staring down at his guest. "Can I at least get a name for you?"

The newcomer's facial plates shifted into something resembling a smile. "The name is Sideways - pleasure to meet you."

-

_"Power has been restored throughout southern Iceland, but investigators are still baffled at the temporary loss,"_ the news report chimed in before the feed was cut off. 

"A successful raid, milord." Thrust proudly looked at his leader. "Between this and our reserves, we have enough to last for some time."

His leader was less than pleased. "The mission was partially successful at best."

"Two Autobots are disabled, Megatron," Thrust reasoned. "That has to count for something."

"Disabled, yes, but not for long. And they still have access to two of the Core Weapons. This won't last, Thrust. We need more permanent results if we are going to stand a chance of overall victory. Still… I suppose something is better than nothing."

-

No doubt resolving to keep his patients restrained in the future, Red Alert looked back at his commander from the other side of the video link with an expression featuring a mix of both frustration and fear. _:"Both Hot Shot and Smokescreen have experienced severe electrical shock. They're lucky they went into stasis lock when they did. Their sparks are stable, but I don't know how long it will last.":_

Trying his best to keep his optics on the monitor, Optimus kept himself calm. "Is there anything you can do?"

_:"I'm already working on them, but they may be too far gone.":_

The Autobot leader's optics narrowed and dimmed somberly. "Keep me informed, Red." The screen clicked off, and he glanced over to the newcomer. "Now then, Sideways, is it? We appreciate your help, but what are you doing here on Earth?"

Both he and Vector Prime watched the newcomer as he casually explained himself. "Not much to tell, really. I'm a free trader, but I've had a few problems with micrometeorite collisions. I set my ship down on this planet to repair it a while ago, picking up what scrap I could here and there. You'd be surprised what these humans throw away."

Still skeptical but finding the story reasonable, Optimus probed further. "And where did you land your ship? We haven't been performing major sensor sweeps, but I doubt we'd miss a Cybertronian vessel."

"I landed near the Earth's northern magnetic pole. I figured interference from the planet's magnetic field would be enough to help mask it from detection. Obviously, it worked out pretty well."

Neither said anything, though that did conveniently explain how they'd missed it. "Very well, but why were you in Iceland?"

A shrug. "Curiosity. I detected Cybertronians in the area, figured I'd check it out. Converting human scrap into useable parts is a difficult process, but if I could get proper spare parts the old fashioned way, so much the better."

The two Primes exchanged glances, in a moment of silent conference. They turned their attention back to Sideways. "We'll see what we can do. Unfortunately, we currently have problems of our own."

"The Mini-Cons, right? Always thought they'd surface again, and sorry that Megatron's still after them. He's making things worse for all of us, especially us traders."

"And we expect you'll understand why we'd like you to remain aboard the _Ark_." Vector Prime straightened up. "Your ship may have escaped detection, but I doubt you'll be able to do likewise. It's far too dangerous for one of us to be alone."

"Until we can get your ship repaired, please consider yourself a guest. We'll assign temporary quarters for you as soon as we can, give you a chance to catch up."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

With a polite nod, Sideways exited the chamber, leaving the two Primes alone. Optimus looked at his mentor uneasily. "I'm assuming you're getting the same feeling that I am."

"Indeed." His optics narrowed. "I have been in existence since almost the dawn of creation. I was there to watch when every being born of Cybertron was given life. He was not among them."

"He could have been created elsewhere - Vector Sigma isn't the only way to grant life to a Cybertronian. But it's unusual that a free trader would be this far out of the normal routes." The Autobot leader crossed his arms, partly in worry. "Either coincidence is striking out with a vengeance, or there's something else going on here." His optics drifted back to the monitor, littered with various windows that ranged from weather satellite feeds to muted news reports. "And with Hot Shot and Smokescreen both left in the repair bay, we're not exactly in good shape. Let's just hope we're worrying over nothing, especially given what's happened today." He shook his head sadly. "Wheeljack, still online and now under Megatron's command. I only hope things don't get any worse."

-

Able to hear their conversation despite a heavy door between him and the two Primes, Sideways gave a dark chuckle, his optics glowing red. "Yes... You do that."


End file.
